


Five Is Right Out, Right Back To You

by gomushroom



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-10-12 00:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10477839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/pseuds/gomushroom
Summary: Fifteen years, Aiba has created his comfortable space with Jun within Arashi. That night, they looked back on some of their firsts and fights with fondness and happy tears.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for je-united. 
> 
> Based on Aiba’s story on Shabekuri 007 guesting, about their kissing session during the anniversary party with their juniors. I haven’t written canon fic in ages; this was such a great prompt to go back to.

Jun and Ohno were in charge of welcoming their guests. Aiba and Nino were pouring more and more drinks as their juniors filled the large hall while Sho was somewhere out and about among the crowd and insisted to order more and more food. 

Someone said to Jun, “They’ve just finished rehearsals and are on the way, _senpai_.” And another one said to Ohno, “They are trying to make it, they will make it. They’re just across town.” Comments for Nino’s pouring drink skills were thrown back carelessly. Aiba made sure everyone was holding a full glass while Sho waltzed around, saying his greetings to each and every guest.

The night and their revelry continued.

Aiba laughed at a joke thrown off by his solo back dancers, something about him messing up the choreography while everyone else was getting it right. Nino was very insistently trying to charm a few juniors with his newest cards tricks, a tall glass of orange juice next to him. On the far right, Jun parted from Sho and a group of juniors, who were full of questions and slightly drunk, to join Ohno on the other side of the hall. With throngs of yet more juniors around them, they got into a discussion about the latest of Ohno’s choreographies for their next performance.

When Aiba’s eyes finally met Jun, they were heavy-lidded, inviting him. He found himself crossing the hall swiftly, greeting more people, sharing some distracted laughter until he met Jun, who was sitting at the corner of a table, waiting for him. 

Aiba slid in to the empty chair with a smile.

 

 

(The moment they parted Jun said softly, “That's not the way you do kissing.”

“Oh yeah?” Aiba had to grin. Not that he wanted to brag but both of them knew that he’d had a few girlfriends and boyfriends before while Jun had only been privileged to experiment with kisses during his TV dramas. 

“Yeah.”

“Practicing with a mirror doesn’t count, though,” Aiba said with a teasing grin and Jun immediately flushed a bright shade of red. 

He tilted his head to the side a little bit, enjoying their closeness. Jun had cornered him at the end of one of their working days. Now that they were alone in the locker room, Aiba couldn't say that he minded at all. But Aiba then saw the confidence on Jun’s face cracking, the uncertainty under the straightforward attitude. He muttered, “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“Show me, then,” Jun said, taking a step forward to cage Aiba against the wall, his eyes holding an invitation, his lips trembling with want.

Aiba wet his lips, liking the way Jun’s eyes followed the movement of his tongue. They should not be doing this—he had wanted this but he had always thought that Jun, still occupied with his own problems, wouldn’t make a decision just yet. He was going to wait till Jun was ready, but apparently it was time already. “I'm not good at kissing myself, so maybe you can give me some feedback later, you know, the way you did on screen about other things too. Several times already.”

“Shut up. Now you’re just bragging.” This time the scold was light and warm. Jun leaned closer, their noses touching, and breathed, “Just kiss me.”

So Aiba did, landing his lips on Jun's trembling ones, catching Jun’s bottom lip with his. He sighed at the pleasant sensation. 

“Masaki,” Jun whined when Aiba pulled back. “Why? Why are you stopping? 

“Your turn,” Aiba simply said. He had thought that their kisses would be like crushing punches. When delight ran through his veins, sending sparks of soft pleasure to his mind, he could only say he was mistaken. This, in its own slow and sloppy way, was way better than he had imagined. 

Jun stared at him dumbfounded for a minute but Aiba could see that the embarrassed shades of shyness had vanished from his eyes. Jun was the one who licked his lips eagerly. “Okay,” he said before he kissed Aiba with all the fervor he could muster.

He had to give it to Jun that he was quite a fast learner, because he was the one who moaned next, sighing when Jun pressed closer, their jean-clad thighs rubbing against each other. When Jun pulled back, he was already panting. As he opened his eyes he saw Jun smiling at him with mixture of pride and arousal. “Why’re you, mhmm, stopping?” 

“Your turn,” Jun sighed as he placed short wet pecks to the corner of Aiba’s lips over and over, asking for more.

 

 

Alcohol. They could always blame the alcohol. While Aiba was barely legal, drinking with Jun was practically breaking the law. It made Aiba feel like a total badass, but he knew the punishment would be harsh should they be found out. He needed to do keep both of them safe, which was the main reason why they were at Aiba’s apartment.

“Just you and me. I like it,” Jun had said earlier. And Aiba, giddy with the possibility of spending time with Jun only and drinking to their heart’s content all night, could not have been more excited.

Aiba would never forget that night—or the things that had led to what he considered another very important step in their relationship: blowjobs.

It was just too bad that Jun never remembered.

“You kind of reek,” Aiba said, closing his eyes and already leaning his head away from Jun. Somehow they had lost sight of their main goal of having the freedom and time to make out on the couch. Instead, they kept emptying one beer can after another and Jun was basically out of it.

The reply Aiba was getting to his remark was slurred and lazy. “No, _you_ kind of reek.”

Aiba wanted to laugh at that but Jun surged forward and tried capturing Aiba’s lips. He drunkenly missed his target by a few inches and ended up landing on Aiba’s lap with his lips latched onto Aiba’s cheek. Uncoordinated and lightly, Jun tried to make his way onto Aiba’s lips. 

“Are you okay?” Aiba asked. His hand wormed around Jun’s waist, keeping the man on his lap more steadily. “Hey, if you’re not feeling well, maybe we could stop for a while.”

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Jun said. He wavered in Aiba’s hold, blinking in a daze, “Been dreaming about this moment. But now that I have you close, and here, and now, now—“

“We could continue later. You don’t have to—” 

Jun only clung to him harder, hooking his hands behind Aiba’s neck, his legs straddled over Aiba’s legs, his hips grinding forward, “No. I want you. Now. We’re here now.” 

The confession was unexpected but Aiba was the only one who was completely startled by it. They had never exchanged sweet promises or fancy words or defined what that thing between them actually was. They had only gone with the time they’d been given. And now was one of those times and Aiba made a decision. 

The following day, Jun had no choice but to reluctantly agree that Aiba could bring this wild card between them anytime and trust Aiba on the details of the night. 

Aiba told Jun that he had been fucking loud; that he had been whining all the way; that his endless moans had made Aiba so hard he’d had to hold back so he wouldn’t come in his own pants; that Jun had been pulling his hair so hard Aiba had chocked several times on his cock; that it had tasted like beer, disgustingly warm and smelly.

When Jun only stayed silent, Aiba finished his story by telling him that he had come all over Aiba’s mouth last night; that Aiba hadn’t had time to deal with his own hard on when Jun had tried to go up to the bathroom; that Aiba then had needed to guide Jun to the bathroom, kneeling beside him all the way as Jun had thrown up the entire content of his stomach with pathetic whines. 

 

 

Jun was seething, Aiba could tell that much. There they were, standing in the middle of their narrow green room, which in Aiba’s opinion was not the right place or time for… whatever would happen next. While Jun had not yet resorted to shouting, he showed a pained expression, his shining eyes begging Aiba to understand. His hands both gripping tightly into Aiba’s sleeves, as he held on desperately, his breathing getting ragged as he tried to control himself. 

Aiba reached out to hold Jun’s elbow, in an attempt to calm him down. “I’m sorry. They were out of line, and I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s not even our fault.” Jun swallowed his hiccups with difficulty. “How the hell they expect us to be ‘cool’?”

At the moment they were caught in the whirling storm of nothing but pain and rejection. Aiba did understand, completely, but he was as helpless as Jun. Nothing he could have said would have changed anything at this point, only few months after their debut celebration. And so he only said, “Sho-kun will be here in few minutes. So will Ohno-kun and Nino. They’d be able to help you.”

“But I don’t want help, and I’m not talking to them. I’m talking to you,” Jun said, tears now threatening to fall on his burning cheeks. “They don’t even want to be here. I’m talking to you, Masaki.”

“I am trying my best, but I’m just— What can I do? I can’t do anything.”

Jun surged forward to hug him. “Don’t say that. Just don’t say that.”

“They will be here soon,” Aiba said, but it wasn’t with conviction. His hands brushed soothingly over Jun’s arm out of reflex. They stayed silent. Aiba closed his eyes, thinking that until the others arrived he could offer that much at least.)

 

 

Jun flashed a smile and Aiba clinked his glass onto Jun’s before taking another sip. “Nice call on the party. Everyone’s having so much fun.”

“Yeah.” Jun smiles lazily as he prompts his chin on his hand, glancing at the action going on in front of him with fondness. “We are so cool, throwing this kind of party for our junior effortlessly.”

Aiba chuckles at the tone. “Effortlessly? I’ve heard that one before.”

 

 

(“We’ve been talking shit all the time, Masaki. Did we all know what we’re talking about? I don’t know anymore sometimes. I have always thought that we should be cool. Or something like that.”

Aiba stayed silent. He did not know what to say when Jun got like this. He would never know, not for many years ahead. He did the only thing that crossed his mind, the only thing that he could do; he reached out and offered Jun his hand.

Jun stared at the offered hand quietly for some long seconds, his eyes wide as he appreciated Aiba’s offer silently. 

Sure, nothing was certain. Arashi was barely five years old and they had so many uncertainties, anxieties and worries. 

Aiba knew that Jun was constantly worried, and he couldn’t say that out loud to others beside them. Someone needed to be the strong one and among them Jun had deliberately taken the position of that one person. 

Aiba never minded—not with the other three having their own doubts and struggles—and he believed that it was for the best of Arashi. He hadn’t—he doubted he ever could—forgotten the way Nino had proclaimed that he wanted to quit even before they had started out and how Ohno had nodded in shame along and Sho’s stern expression. 

He knew what Arashi had, what Arashi shared. He knew Jun was afraid of what Arashi would be, what Arashi could be. And he couldn’t say anything else other than letting Jun know that he was scared too, not only for Arashi, but also for Jun.

 

 

There was no trace of begging in Jun’s breathless voice. “Just fuck me. Come on.”

Aiba held in a sigh, knowing that Jun would want to go into it as soon as possible and then end it again quickly when they’re done; something he doesn’t really enjoy, because Aiba would like to have Jun curling up in his arms and all—they didn’t have to have sex after all, but Jun’s impatient and insistent tugs demanded otherwise.

“Fine,” Aiba said, pinning Jun down into the bed and starting to grind forward. He wanted to drop kisses first. He wanted to slide himself against Jun and prolong the experience. He wanted to not race to the end but glide through it all in hot bubble of excitement. He wanted to do this with leisure in warm bed, rolling over together, with half laughs and panted breaths. He wanted Jun to stay when they were done. But Jun didn’t want any of those things and Aiba forced himself to understand—still it was never just fuck to him from the beginning.

They shared no kisses, just chase towards blinding physical pleasure. Short-lived heat exploded, making Aiba soar high before he ended up back on earth all too sudden and in a weird numbing cold room. Jun forced his orgasm in utter hurry before he slipped out of bed way too soon to get into the shower. Once he was done he got dressed and walked out of Aiba’s apartment, all of that was finished within 15 minutes. 

As Aiba was lying on his warm bed, shaking with bitterness, he tried to remember what had happened, what they’d been discussing, and why Jun had been so determined to not stay the night.

He didn’t get to any conclusion and finally fell asleep, his cheeks damp with tear tracks and his heart clenched in numbing pain. 

 

 

During one of the late night shootings for their late night variety, Nino said Jun would come around, that Jun was being stupid, that Jun would eventually come around. Sho cornered Aiba few days after his talk with Nino and but he didn’t manage to say anything and ended up only giving Aiba a reassuring hug. Ohno stayed silent but he agreed to come with Aiba when Matsu-nii invited them for a drink.

Matsu-nii was on fire that night and they ended up hopping bar after bar all night —Aiba lost track somewhere along their third bar and he was not sure whether Ohno was still next to him along the way.

His focus blurred as he settled more comfortably on someone’s warm shoulder. At least he could be sure it wasn’t Ohno, since the man was currently posing ridiculously in his line of vision together with Matsu-nii, singing his heart out over _Kona Yuki_. When the music ended, Aiba forced his hands to clap. Later, in a far background, he heard Matsu-nii shouting into his phone, calling Jun a stupid boyfriend and that he needed to get his ass over to where they were, wherever here was, and deal with him. The next thing he remembered was being outside, a set of arms holding him firmly. He saw a taxi pulling over, heard a voice whispering, _It’s okay, I got you_ , and he trusted whoever it was that he would get him home safely.

It was way past morning—Aiba wasn’t entirely sure but when he shifted in the bed, his head felt light but relatively painless. When he opened his eyes, the first thing that came into his sight was a pillow next to him. And when he turned to stretch his limbs, he felt warm knuckles rubbing his cheek and he met Jun’s eyes.

“I was—,” Aiba tried to say and found his voice almost hoarse, “—drinking with Matsu-nii.”

It was a huge relief to see that Jun smiled at that. “I know. I had an earful already.”

“I didn’t plan to get drunk, but you know how these things go, and Oh-chan was— Oh, where’s Leader?”

“He got home safely already. I checked.” Jun shifted a bit, now sitting cross-legged on his side of the bed. “And it was closer for me to take you here, so I did that – because it was easier that way.”

Aiba sighed into his pillow, torn between his reluctance to discuss that first thing in the morning when he had a slight hangover and the warmth of the strokes of Jun’s comforting hand on his cheek. “Thank you for coming to the rescue.” 

Jun said nothing for a while and Aiba thanked him, silently this time, again. They stayed quiet for a while. More and more memory from the previous night, flashes of it, came back to Aiba’s mind—nothing coherent. The longer he let his mind whirl with the memory, the more conscious he was of Jun sitting on the bed, beside him, waiting for something. Jun probably wouldn’t say anything, so Aiba figured he needed to say something—that’s the least he could do. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

It was Jun who sighed this time, eyes cast towards the ceiling. “I am not saying this because I am angry with you. I am not angry. But it bugged me a little bit to realize that I didn’t even know that you could get _that_ blindly drunk. You always rejected the invitation of going out with me.”

“Because you were always with your friends. And I didn’t want to intrude. And last night was Matsu-nii’s idea. I couldn’t just say no and get away with it.”

“True on Matsu-nii.” Jun smiled. “But you’d never ever intrude if you joined me for drinks. Masaki. How many times have I said that already? They’re just my friends.”

Aiba didn’t answer, he merely buried his face in his pillow again. They had had that conversation many times before. Even so, while Aiba had been giving countless silly excuses and Jun had kept on inviting him for a night out, they had never settled this one straight.

“You know, I used to think that you are embarrassed to be seen with me.” 

It made Aiba jump from his hideout, his hand reaching out to hold Jun’s knees under the blanket. “What? No!” 

Jun rubbed his thumb on Aiba’s cheekbone softly. “Yeah, I figured that wasn’t the issue. Or Sho figured it first and then lectured me about it.”

Aiba had never wanted to burden the rest of Arashi with their problems, but sometimes it was inevitable. As close to the real truth as he allowed himself to be, he said softly, “I just don’t want to be a burden. Not for you. Not for Arashi. Not for anyone.”

“I know.” Jun bent forward and placed a kiss on Aiba’s temple. “You need to get up and go to work. We’ll have to continue to fight over this later, I guess.”

Aiba sighed. “Yeah.”

They returned to silence before Jun shifted to get off of the bed. “Up for breakfast?”

“Can I have coffee first?” Aiba smiled for the first time that morning. They were going to talk about it later and for the time being they were doing okay.

“It’s already brewing in the kitchen,” Jun said with his own sleepy smile. “Why don’t you stay here and I’ll get you some.”)

 

 

Jun raised his glass in a toast. “Sho-kun has ordered the finest booze in the house and you’re still nursing your beer?”

Aiba just smiled before taking another sip. “I don't feel like drinking much tonight, just some pleasant buzz is enough. This is a happy occasion I'd like to savor it.”

Jun laughed. “Trust you to get sentimental.”

“You’re not far behind yourself,” Aiba said. “I’m in good company.” 

“Shut up.”

Aiba grinned and, mimicking Jun, raising his own glass for a toast.

 

 

(Jun took a deep breath before he continued. “Then why are you so angry right now?”

“I'm not angry,” Aiba said, a beat too fast.

“You are,” Jun opposed without heat. “Bordering enraged angry even. Masaki, are we going to have another argument over my spare time schedule just because, your words not mine, I couldn’t find time for us?”

Aiba didn’t say anything—Jun didn’t mean that, Jun never meant his vile retorts, Aiba knew it already, but it still hurt to hear the tone of Jun’s voice. He just stayed rooted right where he was, hating himself because he really wanted to cry and he didn’t want to cry, not in front of Jun. His hand clenched tightly at his side and he held on, keeping his head high.

Jun sighed heavily. “I didn't mean to say it like that, okay? I'm sorry. But we talked about this. I can't be anyone else but me.”

“Me neither.” Aiba said, his throat hurt, his chest tightened painfully. He didn’t want to have this discussion. He didn’t like the way Jun’s hand was not reaching out to touch his. They were sitting at the dining table, their coffee set aside, forgotten. Aiba hated that they needed to sit so far from each other just so that they were facing each other, so close but so far from each other—they had strictly held back from touching during the day, during their job, during almost every single time they were in public. And now that they were in Aiba’s apartment it only hurt more that they could not be themselves and savor the moment. Aiba looked down to focus on his folded hands in front of him and said, “I think you need to leave.”

“No,” Jun said with determination. 

His hands finally reached out to hold Aiba’s, giving them an assuring squeeze, and stayed. 

“Masaki, I am not leaving. I’m staying because I want everything. With you.”

Aiba kept his gaze low, focusing on how Jun’s fingers were holding onto his hands, firmly covering his shaking fingers, patient and warm. His heart clenched in gratitude and pain. “We can't have everything.”

“We can _try_ to have everything. We’ve been trying for 10 years. Can’t we just keep on trying? That’s all I ask. I want to be with you so much.”

“I want to be with you too. But it's not that easy.” All this time Aiba had been silent, had been hurting without Jun knowing about it. Aiba had been trying, and while he had known they shared the same pain, the same uncertainty, the same pressure, the same helplessness, he had always considered Jun to be the one who came out stronger in this. Perhaps it was time, Aiba decided, to finally go with honesty. If Jun wanted to go afterwards, perhaps it was time for Jun to go and for them to go their separate ways. He stared at Jun’s hand for a while, before he turned his hand slightly and grasped Jun’s back. “I just don't want to get hurt, I’m so tired of getting hurt.”

“Masaki.” Jun said softly. “Look at me.” When Aiba didn’t budge, Jun simply waited for a minute, and then another minute before making a quiet plea. “Please.”

Aiba exhaled quietly. Jun had been so open all along and it was him who had guarded himself and he had tried to be equally open. Jun deserved his best efforts, because he knew that he was getting Jun’s. What Jun had said was so annoyingly logical, it was making his head hurt and he really meant it when he said he was so fucking tired of getting hurt.

It was worth a try; they were worth a try. That simple thought was what Jun had said years before, what Aiba had been holding onto for so long, what had been questioned over and over again along the way. Until today, until now, until he questioned it again and here they were.

He was still staring very hard at Jun’s hands covering his when the thought struck him. So that was it. All this time he had told himself that he was the one who held on for both of them, who covered Jun’s shaking form, who was patient and warm. 

He wasn’t really wrong, though. It was Jun. Somewhere along the way, Jun had turned into the one who held on for them and, just like now, was covering Aiba’s shaking fingers, patiently, warmly, with so much confidence. 

“I’m sorry,” Aiba muttered, his heart clenching in gratitude and pain. “I’m so sorry that things are never easy for us. Never will be.” 

“I stopped wanting things being easy a long time ago. You once taught me to hold onto what I believe in. Now I’m doing exactly that,” Jun said, his voice still very soft; Aiba could feel him very close, could hear the sound of Jun’s chair shifting. It was a mere whisper but Aiba could hear it clearly all the same. “I am going to hold onto us, because I believe in us. We are worth the try.”

Aiba felt tears falling from his eyes, but believing was never easy for him. He could only hope that Jun would understand. “We’ve kept on trying for so long. Ten years filled with hurt and sadness—.”

“—but also joy and comfort,” Jun continued, his hand tightening on Aiba’s hands. “I know we can't have everything, but we can have this. I want another ten years, no regrets, because this is enough for me. Isn’t this enough for you?”

“This is enough for me.” Aiba swallowed his sobs with difficulty. He untwined his fingers from Jun’s, turning his palm up, so he could hold Jun’s hand in his own. He lifted his head, meeting Jun’s wet eyes, full of understanding and shinning with kindness. “This is even more than I have dared to hope for, but a reminder from time and time would be nice. You are so distant sometimes and—“

“—you are guarded. I also need a reminder from time to time, Masaki. So don’t do this again. Talk to me,” Jun said. His other hand came up to cover their joined hands, completing the connection. They had always been together in this. They would stay together. “You need to at least try to talk to me before I _make_ you talk to me.” 

He smiled at Jun’s last emphasize, knowing that the tension between them had passed and dissolved. At least for now, if that was okay for Jun, it was okay for him too. “Or try to,” Aiba said with a hiccup. 

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Jun chuckled weakly before he dropped his head to rest his forehead on their joined hand. “Am I being that much of a handful when I’m being moody?”

“You’re not all that bad,” Aiba said, leaning in to kiss Jun’s hair. When Jun didn’t make any move after Aiba leaned back, he only smiled, waiting. “We are such a mess.”

Jun lifted his head, meeting Aiba’s gaze and smiling back. “We are, indeed.”

Aiba leaned forward and captured Jun’s lips in a subtle kiss, tasting sweetness with sweetness, bitterness chased away by their content sighs. He untangled their fingers to stroke Jun’s wet cheek and wipe the traces of tears away gently.

Jun closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, enjoying their closeness even as he was half-lying across Aiba’s dinning table.

Aiba landed another kiss on the corner of Jun’s lips. “Have you had dinner? I didn’t ask before.”

“Not yet,” Jun said. “I had a much more pressing matter when I arrived.”

“And here I forgot that you came all the way here right from rehearsals. Do you want something? I have some miso soup and we can order something in if you want.”

“Don’t you have some leftovers?”

“I do,” Aiba said with his eyebrows raised. “You want some?”

“Yes.” Jun said as he pulled himself up onto his feet. He stretched his back to hide the embarrassed blush he was sporting, but Aiba saw it anyway. “I kind of miss Chinese food, your kind of Chinese food,” Jun muttered. 

And at that very moment Aiba was certain that they were going to be okay. He looked up at Jun who continued to avoid eye contact for a while. They were going to keep trying, they were worth the fight. No regrets.

“I have some rice. Is _gyoza_ okay?” Aiba asked, as he too rose to his feet. 

“More than okay,” Jun said. “I’m just going to wash my face first. I’ll be right there.”

Aiba smiled as he walked into his kitchen—he washed his face in the sink, folded his sleeves up to get started with heating up the miso soup and putting his mother’s _gyoza_ in the microwave. Jun joined him about a minute later with a swift familiarity of their shared space, with two cans of beer from the fridge in his hands. He settled down on the chair in the corner when Aiba set down a bowl of hot miso and a pair of chopsticks in front of him. The microwave rang in that moment as well and Aiba rushed to get the _gyoza_ plate. 

Aiba stopped in his track on his way back as he watched Jun slowly blowing on the soup, tipping the bowl carefully and taking a little sip of the liquid. He had Jun right here in his kitchen. Jun wanted to be here, Jun would tell him that he wanted to be here, and just in case Aiba should forget, Jun would remind him of just that. And because Aiba knew that Jun had his own insecurities, his own struggles, he vowed to himself to keep his home open for Jun, even if it was for just a random moment like this. 

“Here you go,” Aiba said as he put down a bowl of rice and the _gyoza_ plate in front of Jun. 

“This is _so_ good.” Jun looked up at him with a wide smile, so beautiful, so young, and so precious. 

“Thank you.” Aiba smiled. “Let me get my chopsticks and join you.”

 

 

Aiba could not get enough of Jun’s lips and he didn’t hold back, not in the slightest. That night, Jun was pliant and willing, allowing Aiba to have his way with him, almost painfully slowly. Jun’s warm body, his heavy lidded eyes, his breathless smiles, and his desperate whimpers engulfed Aiba’s senses completely. He had his fingers inside Jun for a while, going in and out leisurely. 

Jun held himself up with trembling arms, caging Aiba and taking stroke after stroke without a single complaint until he could not stand it anymore, “Masaki, please.”

Aiba lifted his head to give Jun a thorough kiss, holding his waist firmly with one hand, and shifted to reverse their position. He felt Jun’s surprised intake of breath on his lips and the arms that went around his back in reflex. When he was satisfied with how Jun was lying on his back on the bed, perfect for him, Aiba coated his cock with a generous amount of lube. He was going to give Jun a few soft strokes when Jun stopped him. 

“Just fuck me, I want to see you come first, I'm okay, just fuck me l,” Jun breathed. “I _need_ you to fuck me.”

A groan escaped his lips and Aiba’s eyes fluttered close. The images of taking Jun roughly, of just chasing nothing else but his own pleasure, of Jun willingly giving over all control to him flashed in the back of his mind. He had trusted Jun to take so much from him, yet when Jun offered him something, Aiba had always taken it with reserve, with care. Yet, if Jun wanted it, if Jun offered it to him, if Jun gave himself to him like that, Aiba would try his best to take good care of his trust.

He spread Jun’s legs wider, holding one of his thighs up, and positioned himself. He pressed in slowly, with extra care, until Jun let out a moan, his arms wrapping around Aiba, bringing them even closer together. Aiba thrust harder and faster, giving Jun what he had asked for, thoroughly fucking him senseless. Jun was tight, his heat clenching around Aiba, almost blinding him with pleasure and Aiba had no other choice but to press harder and thrust deeper. Aiba couldn’t bear it any longer. As hard and steady Aiba set his thrusts, he wanted for this sensation to go on forever, but all too soon Jun writhed under him, losing his control completely. He rocked up to meet Aiba’s thrusts, gasping with the dark pleasure of being denied, of being used, of allowing Aiba to take as much as he wanted. “Yes. Masaki—”

Aiba reached one hand out to get a good hold of Jun’s hair and pulled out of him. His right hand moved to start working himself. Jun let out a long whimper at the loss, but Aiba tugged his hair and jerked his hold to keep their gazes locked. He settled across Jun’s thighs and said, “Watch.” 

Jun’s flush deepened as he nodded, his mouth slacking open, his breath ragged and hips pumping up into nothing. Aiba didn’t hold back any longer, finishing with a few sure strokes, spurting his come messily onto Jun’s crotch, stomach and his neglected hard cock. 

For a moment, Aiba’s mind was brilliantly blank, dazed and overwhelmed. The sound of Jun’s harsh panting brought him back and Aiba moved to hold himself up, barely able to breathe regularly, and hovered over Jun. He placed sloppy light kisses all over Jun’s face as he breathed, “That was all for you, no one else.”

“Masaki, you—.” Jun was reduced to nothing, focused on Aiba and only that kept him from coming on the spot, because he wanted to do it for Aiba.

Aiba kissed Jun’s sweaty temple, feeling the man’s tension and his racing pulse. “Do you want to come?”

“Yes,” Jun whined a beat too fast before he breathed the rest of his answer. “But you—it’s—only if you want me to.”

Lying on his side now, Aiba could see Jun spread out on his bed, still panting, silently begging, with his stomach covered messily with Aiba’s come, his cock hard, untouched and looking almost painful. He flung one of his legs over Jun’s hips, covering half of Jun’s body with his. Aiba held himself up with one of his elbows; he won't have the energy to fuck Jun again, not so soon but he could give him release.

One of his hands ran through Jun’s hair, grasping his strands loosely, as the other rubbed Jun’s stomach softly, causing the man to moan, his body jumping at the touch. Aiba said, “You are so wonderful.”

Jun only whimpered, his body trembling as Aiba smeared the still warm come all over Jun’s stomach. 

“And this—” Aiba breathed into Jun’s ear, making Jun groan loudly as Aiba’s wet hand finally wrapped around his cock. Aiba leaned in to kiss the corner Jun’s lips. “—this is so fucking beautiful.”

Jun moaned as Aiba continued, speeding up his pace and keeping his grip slick and tight. He opened his eyes, dazed, glinting with nothing but pleasure, and only for Aiba, in surrender. “Please.”

“Look at me when you come. I want to see you.”

Jun turned to hold Aiba’s gaze and he screamed as he came. His eyes glazed with drowning pleasure as his orgasm took him. His body tensed all over as Aiba kept his hold on Jun’s cock, milking all the pleasure out of him. 

Jun finally squirmed when he felt he became oversensitive and Aiba finally stopped, sighing in contentment. He wiped his hand on the sheets; it had to go into the laundry anyway later, but that didn’t matter now. He just wanted to hold Jun in his arms as they came down from their high. He pulled Jun’s body closer, pressing their chests and foreheads together. He placed kisses on Jun’s jaw randomly without expecting any response. “We are such a mess.”

Jun chocked out a laugh, his breathe still wheezing. He lifted his arms up to run his hands through Aiba’s hair, brushing the sweat mated bangs on his forehead aside. He shifted forward to press their bodies together even more tightly, pulled Aiba’s head closer and kissed him, hard and filthy and pleased.)

 

“You guys are seriously and disgustingly weepy,” Nino said with louder than he would have needed to and punctuating each word. “Might as well just kiss to get a good conclusion.”

Aiba caught only the word ‘kiss’ and it was the alcohol pleasantly lightening his head with the presence of loud cheers around him. He felt so happy. The night was his. He had Jun in front of him and the man was smiling brilliantly at him with a challenging glint in his tearful eyes: _shall we then?_

“Why not?” Aiba agreed with a crooked smile. 

 

 

(Aiba had gone to bed early the previous night and he had dreamed of their new Digitalian tour choreography, the sequences revolving on his mind over and over until they were nothing but blurry colors. He still floated in light sleep, his body fully rested, ready to get up, but his morning alarm hadn’t gone off yet. 

He blearily opened his eyes when he felt cold hands smooth around his waist and a familiar body slinked into his blanket and pressed closer to him. Jun placed a kiss on his nape and muttered, “Hey.”

Aiba caught the long content sigh clearly and smiled. He mumbled sleepily as he let Jun settle into the large bed beside him. “What time is it?”

“Sometime around 5, I think,” Jun’s voice was muffled by his hair, sending a pleasant vibration through Aiba’s sleepy body. “Not sure, though. Shun said the night is still young but I think it was past dawn. He’s not fooling me this time.”

“You’re such a party animal.” Aiba turned in Jun’s hold, facing his drunk boyfriend, and draped his legs over the other’s to trap Jun beside him. He kissed Jun’s hair before resting his hand on it. “Everything okay?”

“It is now,” Jun said, pressing a soft kiss to Aiba’s neck, simply breathing him in, and holding him close. “Home.”

Aiba chuckled, his mind slowing waking up, his heart pleasantly touched by Jun’s open confession, so early in the morning. He closed his eyes, brushing kisses along Jun’s hairline before dropping one on his lips and shifting to get out of bed.

Jun didn’t let go of him, though. “Where are you going?” 

“Work. I have a 6AM pick up today,” Aiba said, giving Jun another kiss—the last one, he told himself, and another kiss—just because he wanted another one. “Come on, scoot over to my side. It’s warmer.” 

Aiba got out of the bed, out of the warmth of the blanket, out of reach from Jun’s insistent grip. Jun groaned in disappointment but he moved to Aiba’s side and sighed as he buried his face in Aiba’s pillow. Aiba pulled the blanket over him and gave him one more soft kiss.

Jun mumbled as he turned to stare Aiba with one eye open, “Masaki—”

“Mhmm?”

“Have a good day.” Jun reached one hand out from under the blanket to get a hold of Aiba’s hand. With a hint of a whine, he added, “And leave me some of your coffee.”

Aiba laughed. “I certainly will.”)

 

 

Their lips met in a wet and warm quick kiss. It was the swooping cheers and groans that came after that brought them apart. They smiled at each other before they needed to address the room with blushed cheeks and smug smirks. 

And the night continued.


End file.
